One-Winged Angel
by Amaris Moonsong
Summary: A one-winged creature can't fly...can a one-sided lifebond take hold? My first ML fic, be nice! R&R please!
1. Flying Like a Rock

"One-Winged Angel"

Chapter One: "Flying like a Rock"

Characters: All original

Spoilers: None

Uploaded: 4/19/02

Reloaded: 7/17/02

**Flying like a Rock**

Disclaimer: I don't own Valdemar, Companions, etc., or the title of this fic. Velgarth and all things thus associated belong to Mercedes Lackey and the title of this fic, "One-Winged Angel" is from Final Fantasy VII, copyright Squaresoft. The idea for this fic is from my good friend Rachel.

A/N: I'm really bad at titling things, so I'm sorry if you don't think the title has anything to do with the story. If you review this telling me that it's a Mary Sue, then you'd be sort of right, the situation is similar to one I'm going through, but I really am not anything like the main character. If anything, I'm more like her Companion. Her mother is like mine though…enough of my talking, get on with the fanfiction reading!

            Herald-Mage Cytheria, Heir to the Throne of Valdemar, brushed aside one silver-streaked auburn lock to study the young man before her. She'd known him for years, this Herald, and he had been in her year-group when she was in training. He was still handsome, hair a ruddy brown and eyes a bright green, hair attractively streaked with silver, like hers, and eyes made only the brighter from the node energy. He had a domineering aura, making her feel insignificant, with only a reddish mop of perfectly styled curls and a pair of piercing slate gray eyes to his chestnut waves and eyes of clearest jade. 

            He paused in his work--grooming his Companion--and glanced towards the young princess. For some reason, he liked it out in the cold, and so Cytheria was outside often, observing him from a distance. She found herself gazing into his eyes, staring, quite rudely, at his finely sculptured face. There was something about his eyes…and she felt almost like she was falling into them.

The tall grass in the Companion's Field was a mild gray-brown, blowing in the brisk wind of early winter. The trees served as a pleasant backdrop with some browned, lingering leaves hanging from the beeches and elms, and the enriched emerald of pine trees in their element. Cytheria did not wait for her Companion, Larraine, to come to a complete halt before leaping into the saddle and sending a quick mindspoken command to race away before she lost herself in those eyes…again. When no one in the palace complex could tame the young princess, the mere prescence of the farmboy-turned-Herald made her feel as feeble as a newly weaned colt and as obvious as a raven among snow-white doves. And Cytheria, Mistress of the Wind, Enigma Extraordinaire, Ice Princess of the Universe, did not like having those _feelings_ racing around inside of her. 

Feelings. Yes, feelings, for feelings there were, feelings like a turbid whirlpool of emotion, wildly thrashing about, residing and wreaking havoc in her very being. She nearly lost her center each time she conjured a picture of him in her mind. Herald Dolan, of all people, inspired such emotion in her…such intense emotion, and yet he didn't notice her, didn't act like he wanted her as anything other than a friend. With a sigh, Cytheria came out of her dream-like state of pensiveness.

_:Thinking deep thoughts, Chosen?:_

_:Larraine, he's tormenting me. Why doesn't he say anything? Can't he feel the tension between us?:_

_:Just because you feel something for Dolan doesn't mean that he necessarily feels the same way, 'Thia. Remember, one ox can't pull the entire plough.:_

_:Enough with the proverbs,:_ Cytheria grumbled--if grumbling was at all possible through mindspeech--to her Companion. _:I get it, I can't expect anything out of him until I know. I'm making assumptions, assumptions are bad, I understand all this.:_ Cytheria tossed her head and looked across the now still field, towards Dolan. _:What I don't understand is why me…: _And with her last drawn out sentence she sent a wave of remorse and distress to her Companion.

Larraine turned to look at her Chosen condescendingly with one disdainful blue eye. _:I thought you had more sense than that, Chosen. Please take into account that things are never as bad as you make them seem, and someone somewhere or in history has had it harder than you do right now! You're being childish, 'Thia.:_

_:Why did you Choose me then, if I'm so childish?:_ Cytheria asked sardonically, dismounting.

_:I'm wondering the same thing right now.:_ And on that sour note, Larraine loped away, bridle bells jingling cheerily in an antithesis to the mordant parting of Herald and Companion. Cytheria simply sighed and made her way back to the palace, muttering all the way.

*~*

"Mother, I do not care, I am not going to eat with the Council tonight and you can't make me!" Cytheria all but yelled down her mother's receiving chambers. 

"Cytheria Asalie Valdemar, I am your mother and I say that you will eat when and where and even how I say! No, not another word, don't dare speak back to me! Lord and Lady, I brought you into this world, 'Thia, and I can take you out of it!" The queen's regal expression was briefly fractured by fleeting rage at her daughter's impudence. 

"My Lady Mother," Cytheria said as civilly as she could through her clenched teeth, "I do not wish to dine with the Council tonight, and I would very much appreciate if such an overprotective old hen would kindly let her chick leave the nest and fly on her own, keeping her beak out of her daughter's matters. I can make my own decisions." With that, the princess paced out of the chamber and into the hall without so much as a backward glance. 

_:You weren't very nice to your mother, and by the way, chickens don't fly very well,:_ the familiar mindvoice stated resolutely.

_:On speaking terms with me again, are we now, Larraine?:_ Cytheria replied calmly.

_:Yes, because I have to be, Chosen. And…I'm sorry. I was pestering you a bit.:_

The girl softened and even smiled a little, though her Companion could not see it. _:No, you were right, I was being childish. I was worried you would repudiate me or something equally as horrid.:_

_:Repudiate you? Havens, no! It hasn't been done yet and I don't intend to be the first Companion to do it. But I might be forced to, if you don't curb your temper… I do wish you would talk to me though. I can't help but think you're keeping something from me…:_

_:Tread lightly, horse, or you'll set me off again, and this time the target of my venting will be you, and not my mother.:_ Only silence answered Cytheria as she opened the door to her rooms and stepped inside the warm haven. Cytheria loved her rooms…the polished wooden floors had handsome Shin'a'in-made throw rugs of various sizes decorating its surface, while miscellaneous pictures--ranging from Companions and landscapes to a portrait of her family and a specially made painting of her, riding Larraine, silver coronet adorning her dark auburn tresses and eyes bright and wet from wind and excitement--adorned her walls. Cytheria bypassed those trinkets and headed for her bed, soft and stuffed with heather, with pillows filled with down. The warm scent of lavender met her nostrils as she laid, face down, inhaling the fresh reminder of sleep and peaceful dreams in this bed. 

Resentfully, Cytheria drew herself up after a few moments of relaxation, knowing that she should apologize to her mother and knowing that her mother would apologize for her own harshness after the talk Cytheria knew must have happened between the Queen and her Companion, Brendel.  And 'Thia felt the rush of approval from Larraine as soon as she thought this. 

_:Oh fine, I'll go talk to her…:_ Cytheria said quickly, sliding off the bed and pushing the door aside_. :I am still not eating with the council though,:_ she added resolutely.

_:I don't expect you to, you're too stubborn to give in just because you resent acting so awfully towards your mother.:_

"Correct as usual, Larraine," Cytheria muttered as she descended the stairs, receiving a bewildered look from one of the new pages. 

*~*

"…I still think that we should expand our borders to include the Three Rivers settlement," Queen Cecile said, rubbing her temple.

"Majesty, our borders have not expanded since your grandfather's time…" Lord Myram replied.

"Well then let there be change, Lord Myram.  I don't see you objecting that my seven times great-grandfather Baron Valdemar went off and started his own kingdom, and that classifies as quite a bit of change, I would think. What have we to loose from this expansion? Karse's Son of the Sun has already as well as disowned the citizens of that area, I don't think they'll mind if we take it. It's practically unwanted land, but I hear that they have some fine glassware and already _two_ of the locals have been Chosen! Do you want a sign from the Gods, Myram, since the will of the Companions isn't enough for you?"

"I…" The Lord looked quite put out at this sudden display of anger on the side of the Queen. 

"What else can we ask for, then? For Lady's sake, tell me, I'm dying to hear a good reason why we should not reach out and grab this opportunity! Do you have any good reasons, Myram? No? Well then let's just vote and get this issue over and done with!" Cecile was flushed with anger and one raven curl had escaped her coiled braid, but her eyes shone the way they always did when she had gotten her way.

"And that," Queen's Own Herald Jolan whispered to Cytheria, "is where you get your temper from." The Heir stifled a giggle and was glad that she had made up with her mother for the fight they'd had the day before. But while being on good terms with her mother solved one of her problems, Cytheria had another set entirely that she fully intended to deal with tonight, no later. 

After the Council session was over, Cytheria went directly outside to the Companion's Field and found Larraine. She scrambled up the Companion's silky flank, landed a seat on Larraine's bare back, and the pair rode off in silence towards the very edge of the Field.  

_:So, what is it? And don't sigh and say nothing, because I _know_ there is something bothering you,:_ the Companion urged as her Chosen dismounted and sat on the grass.

"It's nothing," Cytheria sighed, and Larraine greeted the unwelcome response with a nip. 

_:I just told you not to do that. Now, tell me. I promise I won't get angry or laugh, I just want to know.:_

_:It's Dolan. I don't know why he effects me this way…he's said before that I'm like a sister to him, but…:_

_:Chosen, I've told you before…:_

_:No, Larraine. I'm positive this is different…let me show you.:_ And Cytheria looked into her Companion's clear blue eyes, felt the falling sensation that came with them, and opened her heart fully to her Companion, letting the pent up emotions inside her, the ones she had even shielded from her Companion, out. She let everything out into the open, and began to cry as she felt each emotion in succession. 

_:Thia, I didn't know it was like this…:_

_:Stop talking, let me finish telling you. I'm so overcome with everything…at first I thought that it was just because we were friends, but then there was lust, and immense loyalty, and such an overpowering need…Larraine, I don't know what any of this is, I don't know what it means, and I just want it to go away. I hate emotions, and I'm an empath. I can't seem to do anything right, and I have a major mage-gift. I have strong mindspeech, and precious few people to use it with. I'm cursed, Larraine! It isn't fair, it just isn't. And I know you'll say that life just isn't fair, and dammit, I know that, but it seems like things are always worse for me!: _Any further comments were choked off my a mental sob, followed by a physical one. 

_:Chosen…can you handle something else, tonight?:_

_:Like what?:_

_:It's about Dolan…:_

_:Tell me.:_

_:'Thia, it's the oddest thing I've ever seen…:_

_:Just tell me.:_

_:It's…it's so dangerously similar to a lifebond, what you feel for Dolan.:_

Cytheria's head came up and she looked at Larraine with hope burning in her eyes. "Is it a li-lif--" she whispered into the semi-darkness of twilight, stuttering.

_:'Thia, it's…it's hard to describe. It's almost…:_

The shaking figure at the Companion's feet moaned in anger. "Just…answer…the question," she said, voice small and almost inaudible. "Is it, or isn't it?"

_:Oh Chosen…for you it is, but for him it isn't.:_

_:Dear Goddess…so it's a--:_

_:A one-sided lifebond.:_

A/N: Formatting, YAY! I hope y'all appreciate the trouble I went through… But it's readable now, ne?

Oh, and sorry about the dramatic ending to this first chapter of paramount importance…

~`~Amaris~`~ (Or whatever my pen name is at the moment)


	2. Plummeting to Earth

"One-Winged Angel"

Chapter Two: "Plummeting to Earth"

Characters: All original

Spoilers: None

Uploaded: 7/17/02

A/N: Everyone said they wanted another chapter, so…here it is. Enjoy, and please review!

**Plummeting to Earth**

The Queen's Own Companion Memnon snorted daintily and looked at his daughter.

_:Larraine…it's not in your control. You can't do anything about it, love.:_

_:Father, my Chosen is in such pain, and I want to _do_ something! I could take her memory…: _Larraine's sapphire eyes were wide and pleading, boring into Memnon's midnight blues with such profound urgency that the older Companion was forced to look away. 

_:Larraine…you know as well as I. Companions are not permitted to meddle in their Chosen's affairs without permission. It's just not done.:_

_:I don't care! I want to help 'Thia…:_

_:No,:_ Memnon's mindvoice grew stern, and he drew himself up so that his head was higher than his daughter's. _:No. You are a Companion, and you must act as a Companion should. Do not meddle, Larraine.:_ Larraine couldn't look him in the eye, and focused her vision on the pale pink hairless scar that decorated her father's cheek. Memnon repeated himself, _:Do not meddle.:_ Larraine lowered her head submissively.

_:Yes, father. I won't meddle.:_

_:Now, go to your Chosen. She needs you. And Larraine--: _Larraine looked up at the battle-scarred face she knew so well. _:Help her to deal with her emotions. She needs you right now.:_ Larraine turned and trotted briskly towards where Cytheria was waiting, without giving a reply.

_:'Thia…where are you going?:_ Larraine caught up to her Chosen, who was walking determinedly towards the Collegium. 

_:I have to find Dolan, I have to talk to him…:_

_:Chosen, love, don't do that…don't tell him. You'll only get hurt.:_

_:I already am hurt…but I can't give up. Hope is all I have left…I have to keep hoping, and I have to talk to him.:_ Cytheria kept walking, curls blowing every which way in the wind.

_:It's usele--:_

'Thia interrupted her Companion and stopped abruptly in her tracks. _:Don't tell me it's useless…tell me anything else, but don't tell me it's useless. I need to talk to him about this…I can't not talk to him. I can't keep this from him.:_

_:'Thia--:_

_:No. I'm going to talk to him.: _She began walking again, and Larraine didn't bother to follow, knowing that there was no changing her Chosen's mind once she had made it up.

*~*

Cytheria arrived at the barn, knowing that Dolan, as Equitation Instructor, would be there.

"Dolan?" she called into the dusky warmth of the barn, peering down the isle.

"Down here," he replied, and 'Thia walked down the isle to find Dolan untacking his Companion. 

"I…I think I need to talk to you," she said, staring at the ground. 

"Sure, 'Thia, just what's the matter?" Dolan picked up a currycomb and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. He began to brush slowly, circularly, and was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice when Cytheria stepped up beside him.

"Okay, um, Dolan…I've known you for a pretty long time, right?"

Dolan looked up, surprised to see that she was so close to him, and smiled. "Yeah…hey, do you remember that time in Theoden's class when that blue--Grenda, was that her name?--decided to get even with the old Bard and she--"

"Yes, Dolan, I remember, but that's not the point." Dolan shrugged and went back to his currying. "I have something I need to tell you…"

"Whoa there, little sister, why so solemn? It must be bad…come sit by yer old pal Dolan and tell me." Dolan set down the brush, grabbed her around the shoulders and attempted to take her to sit on a bale of hay…but found only that his friend had frozen in her tracks as soon as he touched her; she was completely tense, staring at the floor, shaking. His mouth went dry for a moment, and then he found words, like a torrent, yelling in his head…

"'Thia…wha--who did this to you? Why are you so…upset? Was it that jerk, Dominic? Because if it was I swear I'll--"

"It was you," she said, choking on her own words as they emerged from her mouth. "It's…just…well, you make me so uncomfortable…"

Shock and disbelief registered on Dolan's face. "'Thia, I'm your _friend_, I'm not going to hurt you…"

"You have hurt me, you still are hurting me…I need to tell you something…" She averted her eyes further, letting them rest on anything besides the man standing in front of her.

"'Thia, you're like my sister, you're one of my best--oh hellfires--one of my _only_ friends, I'll listen…I don't want to hurt you. Please, tell me, what's the problem?"

'Thia began to cry silently, letting the tears drip down her cheeks…and then, with an eerie calm, she said softly: "I love you."

"Well, sure, 'Thia, I love you too, you're my best friend," Dolan said, mild confusion audible in his voice.

"No, dammit, Dolan, I love you in ways other than friendship…I love you. You make my heart pound, you make me want to faint, want to fly…I don't know how to describe it, but I love you!" Cytheria's voice grew to a shout riddled by shuddering sobs; by now her face was blotchy and pink from crying, cheeks dripping tears. A lightness filled her…caution and reason were lost to the torrent of _something_ that was pulling her towards Dolan…she couldn't resist…and she didn't want to. She pressed her lips to his, grabbed at his arms and shoulders in a half-mad attempt to keep him from pulling away…but it was too late. The kiss was empty…there was no passion, nothing. Dolan just stood limply, unsure of what to do, not wanting to hurt dear 'Thia… She pulled away of her own accord and looked at Dolan, naked hope dancing in her shining eyes.

He felt his face grow hot, and he looked at the ground to keep from…laughing, crying, screaming…whichever came would surely not be good, so he held them all in, and slowly, slowly, shook his head from side to side. The younger Herald-Mage let out a noise that was half whimper and half unearthly wail, turned, and ran.

*~*

Cytheria gazed expressionlessly into the woods. There was nothing left here. She was empty, the world was empty…life was empty, meaningless, without him. 

"Dolan…" she heard herself whisper, and didn't bother to wipe at the tears that mentioning that name brought. 'Thia looked down at her belt, and her eyes rested on her sheathed dagger. There was always that option…

_:No.: _Larraine stepped affront her and gently touched her Chosen's cheek with her velvety nose. _:'Thia…please. Don't think like that. I love you, and I won't let you hurt yourself. Please…can't you try to forget?:_ The tentative question sent Cytheria from being empty to being filled with irate rage. She struck Larraine with a wave of anger so ruthless that the Companion stepped backwards. 

"Forget? You want me to _forget_? Forget that I love him? Forget that I can never, ever have him? What do you want me to _forget_? I don't care, I don't care about anything anymore. Maybe it would be better if I did forget…or if I were forgotten." The girl, now shaking, groped blindly for her dagger. With the unsheathed blade in hand, she held it to her throat, and Larraine's eyes grew large with horror. "I don't want to be here, dammit! I don't want to be around to see him. And worse, I don't want to be around to see myself! Look at the state I'm in! I don't deserve to be here. No one else deserves to be burdened with me…That's all I am. A weak, stupid, insignificant bloody _burden!" _The dagger shook violently in her hand, touched the pale white of her throat briefly, and finally dropped to land in the grass with a soft thud.  

*~*

The princess didn't recover well from heartbreak…she hid in her rooms, far away from everyone, everything…she didn't want to see it. She slept…all the time, more than it was possible to sleep without aid, and her dreams were all the same… Dolan would be there, hugging her, apologizing, or she'd be stuck, staring while Dolan cavorted with other females, or she'd be watching him die, without her, all alone…

"Knock, knock," a voice said softly as the tall, skinny man opened the door. He ducked into the room and sat on a chair by the bedside. "'Thia…are you alright?" In the silence that followed, he pretended to be rearranging his green robes. "'Thia? Wake up…" He prodded her.

She sat up slowly, and blinked. "Healer Andreas? Why are you here?"

"Cytheria, your mother is very worried about you…"

"Eugh…I don't care…I don't want to get up." She flopped back down onto the bed and pushed her face into her pillow.

"You need to get up, you need to face the world again…I have a potion for you, to relieve you of some of your depression…mind telling me what's causing this sudden breakdown?" 'Thia shook her head and turned away. When she turned back around, she found a potion left on the table by her bed, and Healer Andreas nowhere to be found. Sighing, she uncorked the flask and downed the contents…and became filled with cheer; ready, almost, to face the world again. 

Cytheria donned a fresh set of whites, and headed downstairs, not far from being her old self. She popped into the cafeteria and took a sausage roll, hot and greasy, fresh from the oven. As she stepped outside she breathed deeply, inhaling the winter cold's astringent scent and examining the beautiful designs that frost made on the leaves of nearby trees. Larraine loped up behind her and fell into step beside her Chosen. 

_:Hello again,:_ Larraine said meekly. _:Are you feeling better?:_

'Thia nodded. _:A bit, I suppose…Andreas gave me a potion to help.:_

_:I see…: _The distaste and disapproval present in Larraine's voice startled Cytheria into laughing…she laughed and smiled, using muscles that her sleeping face hadn't used in days. 

_:Now what, may I ask, Larraine, prompted you to be so averse to my happiness?:_ 'Thia stopped abruptly in her tracks, looked back at her Companion with a grin, and took a large bite out of her breakfast.

_:_Your _happiness? How can this artificially inflicted state of brainless giggling be _your _happiness? This is no more _YOUR _happiness than I'm the bloody queen of Valdemar! This is the happiness that you would never feel…'Thia, you're never happy without damn good reason, and I pride myself on knowing you better than anyone, and if you would come to your senses, you'd see that this is not _you_ being happy, this is the potion _making_ you happy. And if you'll excuse me for intervening--: _

Cytheria felt Larraine do something she'd never done before…Larraine was using magic. After that realization, it was like something broke inside of her, and the happiness was gone, and she lost her balance, dizzy from the change of heart. She lost her balance, the world was collapsing on her, raw emotions everywhere, all around, she was falling, falling into the world of emotion…

_:_Shield_, dammit, 'Thia…What are you, a trainee again? Shield!:_ 'Thia didn't even make an attempt, her eyes glazed over, and she collapsed onto her Companion's waiting neck, eyes glassy and unfocused, too enveloped in emotion to even cry out.

_:Sweet Lady…: _Larraine's statement was cut off as she put the strongest shields she could muster on her Chosen. Larraine opened her eyes, for they had been closed since the beginning of the direct mind-to-mind contact, and saw immediately why Cytheria hadn't been able to pull herself out of it. They were surrounded by half the Collegia, all of them staring worriedly at the Heir, who was just beginning to stir from her self-imposed comatose. 

_:Get a Healer!: _Larraine commanded, glaring daggers into those people closest to her. _:She needs a Healer…no, get Herald Dolan. He is what she needs.:_

Two men stepped over, unasked, to lift the limp 'Thia from Larraine's neck and carry her to her quarters…and Larraine felt something that she hadn't felt since she was human, since she was a Herald herself…her eyesight blurred, she closed her eyes from reflex, and the picture that she had just seen--a red-clad Bard and a Blue Instructor carrying a motionless 'Thia--warped into a horrific vision.

_*******Curls, glistening crimson and silver, like a stream of blood and quicksilver, spilled over the white of the Herald's uniform. The silver-streaked hair, so long and beautiful, it was so familiar. The complexion of the girl, so shockingly pale beside the shining waterfall of burgundy tresses. The brow, arched ever so slightly, black eyelashes, a slightly upturned nose, symmetrical rose-petal-pink lips…the body of the Heir to the throne of Valdemar was so tragic and beautiful it made one's heart ache to see it. _

_Her petite frame rested in the arms of a man, a man expressing such deeply seated emotion with the expression on his not quite handsome, but not unattractive face. It was beyond tears, beyond grieving…his body shook from restrained emotion, his eyes gazed through the girl's body, as if into her soul. There was a name for what the man was feeling, though he had not yet realized it. It was not sorrow, despair, love…it was worse, it was a pain that struck him like an arrow through the heart, it was something that would not fade away after years…no, the strongest of all emotions had him in its grips, and it would not let him go until the day he died. He was not merely grieving for the loss of a friend, what his face portrayed was sick, heartfelt, true guilt. _

_His hand twitched once, and moved hesitantly towards the wound on the girl's chest. The blood, the now-drying blood rimmed a stab wound, a dagger wound, carefully angled to go through the ribs and pierce the heart, ensuring a quick death as the heart became unable to beat. His lips moved with silent words, perhaps a prayer, perhaps self-assurance, only one trained in lip reading could see what he was truly saying._

_"Cytheria," his soundless words said, giving the body a name. "'Thia, friend, little sister…I did this to you, and I'm so sorry…" his lips ceased to move as he shuddered under the weight of his guilt, eyes searching the girl's face for any sign of life. "I wish I could have loved you, 'Thia, I wish I was strong enough for that kind of emotion, I always wanted to be like you, 'Thia, you were so strong, so beautiful, and so oblivious to it all… You were as pretty, as charming as a nightingale, but as strong as an eagle…I should have seen that you weren't yet fully fledged, I should have loved you, 'Thia…as beautiful and fearless as you were--still are--you were like a bird with one wing. Now, wherever you are, 'Thia, you're still waiting for me, I know it, and I hope I can find the heart to love you, someday." He choked on his own inaudible words, but continued to look down at the body. If any thoughtsensors were in the area, they would have heard his last statement, thought and not spoken._

'Thia, you're in the Havens, and I know I'll see you again…by that time I'll be able to love you, I know I will…you won't be one-winged forever, little sister, but until I can love you, until I know how to love, you'll have to be a one-winged angel. _Herald Dolan leaned over the Heir's body and lightly touched his lips to hers, which were miraculously still warm. For a fleeting moment, he thought she was alive again, thought he sensed her eyelashes fluttering, but when he sat up, her body was in the same, still position, face still tranquil and serene in death. And as he finally left her body, he sent a prayer to whoever was listening…_Shadow-Lover, keep her safe until I can reclaim her from your arms…_ Without looking back, he left behind the only girl, the only woman he ever could have loved, and as he reached back with his mind, he thought he touched hers, a last remaining glimmer of the girl that once was, and he sent a thought after her soul, a thought entwined with longing and hope. _Wait for me._ *******_

Pain struck Larraine to the heart, grief for what the future could bring. She felt Memnon's warm nose touch her neck lightly and she turned to see him looking mournful and sad. 

_:Father--:_

_:No, Larraine. Do not interfere.: _And Larraine's heart broke, prematurely, perhaps, for the future that she could not change.

A/N: YES, ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER. There are two ways for me to end this, one happy, one sad…I have them both written already so I'll wait for you guys' opinions before posting one. I actually prefer the sad one, but the happy one is good as well, and I will NOT post them both (I hate when people have alternate endings to stories) so you will just have to tell me how to end it. Happy or sad? Let me say now, I write tragedy well. I can do the occasional happy ending to please my adoring fans (you're out there, somewhere, I know), but I just want to know how to end this thing.

I apologize most profusely for the Mary Sue-ishness of this chapter, Cytheria really turned into a carbon copy of me…overly dramatic and depressed. But other than that, I hope you enjoyed, sorry for the shortness, but it's the best I could do! Please review! Zhai'helleva!


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